


Finding Home

by ForgottenLoveSong



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Multiple Pairings, No particular route, OC branded child, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Ike/Ranulf, Past Relationships, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Racism, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenLoveSong/pseuds/ForgottenLoveSong
Summary: Peace it should have been easy after the the goddess of Dawns return.  It should have lasted with all working to understand each other.  It should have, but it didn't.  Ike was gone and a chance run in with bandits sends Ranulf, Janaff and a branded child to a place they don't know embroiled in war.  With no home they meet, Sylvain, Petra, Marianne and many others in an odd world.  Yet the crest, the depiction of the goddess they are all familiar.  Only her name doesn't fit.  As the war heats up truth becomes undeniable and pulls people from all sides of the war to decide what must happen for peace.  With each searching for something different can the truth survive and can home be found?
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Lay | Ranulf
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will follow one character as the main. Chapter 1 will be Ranulf

Four months had passed by but somehow it didn’t ease the pain, guilt or betrayal. For the last week Ranulf, second in command to the new king Skimir, had been travelling with an old friend and the eyes to King Tibarn, Janaff. It had been his friend's attempt to lift his spirit. He smiled and joked with others but it wasn’t sincere and the keen eyed hawk had seen the cracks. Cracks caused by Ike. His friend, trusted ally, and well a man that was special to him in ways no one else was, just left. Not a word to anyone but his little sister Mist. He took Soren, and that just roused jealousy in the cat laguz.

Ranulf knew that this peace, while hard won, wasn't for Ike. Ike was strong, but not one to accept glory or praise. He knew that this peace had brought far too much attention to Ike. That Ike wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, where he wasn’t known. He knew he would have gone with Ike if the other had just asked but, instead he’d been left behind without a word. With a heavy sigh he stretched and got up. The day was pressing on and he was sure that Janaff was somewhere near their camp.

Lazily his blue tail swished behind him while dual colored eyes searched for the hawk. The air was hot, and the terrain was starting to become difficult to find details in the distance as they were approaching the Desert of Death. The plan was to visit Hatari, to see Raphael who was with the wolves. Beyond that Ranulf wasn’t sure but he was certain that Janaff had some idea or plan.

“Hey about time you were up.”

Ranulf’s ears twitched as he turned to see the light brown winged hawk laguz landing behind him. His face holding that easy smile and Ranulf returned it. Ranulf shrugged since it wasn’t exactly easy to answer why he laid about this morning lost to his thoughts.

“So what did you see?”

“Actually something that isn’t right… I think we may have some trouble before we get to Hatari.” Janaff said though his eyes were staring out towards the desert they’d been approaching. He would have called the group bandits but there were faces that seemed familiar. The war was over and while most were moving towards tolerance there were those who were still causing trouble. “Looks like we’ve got three guarding a cave entrance near those ruins.” Janaff pointed out and while Ranulf squinted he couldn’t make out the details like Janaff. “Can’t tell how many are in the cave, but there’s a torch trail so someone is in there.”

“Well then I guess we’ll have to see what they are doing in there.” Ranulf smiled at Janaff.

Ranulf followed Janaff, the pair made their way into the desert. Before they got too close to the group both transformed into their beast form. Janaff flying high, while Ranulf sprinted across the sand. He kept as low as possible to keep from being spotted by any scouts. The last thing they needed was to be spotted before they even got close enough to see what was going on. The closer they got the more Ranulf felt that there was something sinister going on. He knew whatever they found they would need to tell Tibarn and Skimir about.

Ranulf moved over the sand and hurried close to one of the walls of the ruins. It was at the mouth of a cave and peering around Ranulf could see exactly what Janaff had said. Ranulf looked up towards Janaff who was circling around high in the sky, then back at the guards. There were only three of them out here so it should be easy to quickly take them out. They were nothing more than ruffians in torn leather with rusted axes. Ranulf could feel the excitement of the hunt trickle down his spine, as his body sprang out of his sprint. The ruffian hadn’t even been able to grab his axe or make a sound as Ranulf brought the man down his head colliding with the stones of the ruins.

As Ranulf pounced on the second bandit, knocking him to the ground in the same fashion Janaff had swooped down and grabbed the third man. Ranulf watched the hawk with amusement as he took the bandit and up high and dropped them. It wouldn’t kill them but the fall into the sand would keep her from coming after them. Ranulf slowly turned his gaze down the lit cave before sprinting off towards the flickering shadows. Ranulf didn’t have to look to know Janaff was close behind him. They’d worked together on the field of battle so much that he just knew the other was there closely tailing him from above.

Ranulf stopped just shy of entering a spacious cavern deep in the cave. The ruins here were more intact and there were a lot more men than the three outside. His body shifted back just as Janaff did the same and landed next to him. They both kept low in the shadows and quiet as they could.

“They’ve got some sort of ritual circle set up, and there are at least five mages.” Janaff pointed out. There was an edge of caution to his voice and Ranulf understood why. With the numbers in here either one of them could get seriously hurt. There was wisdom in pulling back and informing the others what was going on.

“Go… I’ll keep an eye on what-” Ranulf wanted to urge Janaff to leave but he stopped short as a new scent wafted under his nose. He could feel Janaff tensing beside him. The scent had barely been processed before the scream and crying reached the two of them. The mages were dragging a child towards the center of their ritual, a branded child. “Go.” Ranulf hissed one more time before shifting back into the large cat that he was. He was seething with anger. This hatred and prejudice was supposed to be gone, or at least not carried out to the point of harming children.

Ranulf lunged out of the shadows toppling a man dressed in heavy armor, his axe and shield skittering over the rock bringing all attention to the blue cat laguz. Ranulf used all his strength to keep the man pinned, teeth bared as the rest of the bandits quickly closed around him. He leapt out of the way as one man, almost the size of Boyd wildly swung his axe down. He didn’t stop when his paws landed on the stone he ran towards the center, weaving between the man and women here, all to aware of the few near misses. He had nearly reached the center when he heard the cry of a hawk. He didn’t look for Janaff but within seconds he saw his hawk friend in front of him dropping a spear. He probably had been thrown from behind him.

Ranulf skidded, pushing himself to the side as lightning struck right where he had been. He gave a loud hiss, a warning that he wasn’t going to fall here. Yet the momentary pause allowed their enemy to close ranks. Getting to the mages would now be more difficult for him, he just had to hope Janaff would manage. The shouted commands of these monsters were ignored by Ranulf and Janaff, they had only one goal. Get the child away from here. Ranulf snarled his claws pressing firm against the stones, before he lunged at the charging myrmidon. His claws ripped through the leather armor sinking into the flesh of the man’s arm as he flipped over him, the blade sweeping under him. Before he landed he felt the sharp pain of an arrow sinking deep into his thigh, yet with a quick movement he pulled his paw up before landing. Ranulf dual colored eyes narrowed as the bandits circled up.

Ranulf crouched lower hearing Janaff’s cry as he circled wide. The twitch of the bandit to his left was all the blue cat needed to avoid the sword. By the time an axe was swinging down Ranulf’s claws had dug into the arms of the swordsman and he was propelled with a single jump over the man. There was another lance of pain dulled by the adrenaline when he landed on the other side. His pupils thinned as he honed in on an old mage dragging a frightened child towards their ritual circle. He wouldn’t let that happen. His claws extended and he tore into the arm of the mage the closer range blast of fire magic was almost expected. The child was free watching him as for a moment he crumbled down to the floor. Pain was starting to override the adrenaline in his blood. As the mage stumbled away Ranulf moved back his body used as a shield for the child.

A beat of air pushes down on his fur and Ranulf knows Janaff is above him. They are surrounded even if the beorc are not as strong as the enemies of the past their numbers were concerning and there were a few strong members. As the ranks started to close in again Janaff took off talons tearing through their enemies, while Ranulf stayed with the child guarding her. He lunged at a spearman, his back claws tearing through his throat as he kicked off the man and landed back on the ground. He hadn’t heard what the mage had said not over the screams, and clang of metal against stone. He only saw an arrow rip through Janaff, a light coming from the circle and he didn’t have a choice. Shifting out of his cat form he grabbed the girl lifting her small body up into his arms while he ran towards Janaff. The mage was preparing a wind spell.

“Janaff!” Ranulf yelled as his foot slipped, the ground gone and a sudden burst of white filled his vision followed by black nothing.

-0-

Ranulf groaned his eyes still aching from the bright light, but his sight was clearing. Before he could see that the desert was gone he could feel the stinging bite of the bitter cold. A new sensation that worked to ease his mind off the pain of his injuries. When his sight cleared he didn’t check his surroundings but the bundle in his arms. As he loosened his hold he watched the young girl look up at him. Ranulf stared at her and she looked back at him. Wide eyes and so tiny. She had to be only three or four, at least that was what he thought for a moment. Her smell. She was a branded. The slightest hint of a mark showed on her forehead and with his hand he pushed back her bangs and saw it. Once that was confirmed he looked around them and fear struck him the moments before the blackness was coming back.

“Janaff!” Ranulf scrambled to his feet and stumbled through the shallow snow over to his unconscious friend. Just like him Janaff was littered with wounds. Ranulf rolled Janaff on to his back and pulled his shirt open. The gash in his torso was bleeding turning the snow red. The way the flesh looked torn told Ranulf it was the spell that did this. That wind spell. Tearing a strip of orange cloth free Ranulf quickly but carefully wrapped the wound. Next he wrapped Janaff’s forearm where the arrow had tore through his wing. He then glanced over his own wounds but they could wait. Ranulf jumped as the child put their hand over his and stared up at him. He smiled and slowly closed Janaff’s shirt.

“I’ll have to carry him too, it’ll be slow but we’ll find someplace warm okay.” Ranulf told the little branded one. They may have only looked three or four but he knew they had lived longer. Ranulf pulled off the orange wrap and measured it out. Even with the rips it would work. He tied the ends together and slung it around his torso before looking to the child. “I don’t think I got your name.” Ranulf spoke softly as he held out a hand. Once more little fingers touched him once more.

“Runa.” Was the soft small answer spoken more clearly then a child her size should speak. Runa was a branded even if there was any doubt.

Ranulf helped Runa into the sling as well as encouraged her to wrap her arms around his neck. Next he took Janaff’s arm and pulled him up over his back. With Janaff’s arms draped over his shoulders Runa squirmed to avoid the limp limbs. As Ranulf was grabbing onto Janaff’s thigh to hold him Runa had taken on one Janaff’s arms in hers. Ranulf pushed himself to standing again using only his legs, and started to walk through the snow. It wasn’t too deep but it was already soaking through his shoes. His breath was visible as he pressed on through the cold snow, feeling the child in his arms tensing. He hoped that there would be a place they could take shelter at close. His ears kept swiveling, and he kept searching with his eyes and nose for any sign that there would be someone in the direction they were heading.

Ranulf was sure how long he’d walked with his injured friend, the shivering child, and the sweat soaking his clothes, making the bite of the wind worse. The smell of embers dying was welcomed, even if he could have gone for longer it was his charges he worried about. There was another smell heavy, sharp and foul but no he couldn’t believe it. War was over, there would be no reason for such a smell. He pushed his legs to move faster through the deepening snow and just as he broke through the tree line he saw it. A village, burned, torn apart and abandoned. A sick lump rose in his throat as he knew these signs, and the smell he couldn’t deny it any more. Death. His dual colored eyes swept the area cautiously as he walked forward. There were still a few buildings smoldering with embers. The snow fresher than the carnage was mostly pristine, no mud, or blood. As he walked towards the road into the town looking for any structure untouched by fire. He was almost through the town before he found a group of buildings still standing with no broken window or burned roofs and walls. The doors were damaged but it would do.

Ranulf stepped into a small home that had been close to a barn. When his boots hit the wood, he set Runa down and pressed a finger to his lips and she mimicked him. He then gently set Janaff on the ground as well. His ears twitched, while his nose shuffled through the scents. Most of the furniture was overturned and damaged. Broken clay, and glass was scattered on the floor. He quietly moved through the simple home searching for any sign of life, any threat. There was nothing in the kitchen, the front area, or the small storage under the stairs. He carefully climbed the stairs, and peered into the open space that was a bedroom. Three beds one large and two small, the knowledge of what most likely became of the owners drew a sigh of sympathy from his lips before he turned and headed back down to Runa and Janaff.

“Go on up Runa. There are blankets so you can get warm.” Ranulf smiled and Runa’s small face lit up. She ran towards the stairs as Ranulf was lifting Janaff. Ranulf frowned as he held his unconscious friend. He needed a vulnary or to find someone who knew how to use a staff. Otherwise Janaff’s recovery wasn’t guaranteed to go without lasting impact. “I’ll get you help my friend, don’t worry.” Ranulf vowed as he started his way up the stairs. When he got up there Runa was pulling off her shoes and wet socks sitting on the floor next to one of the beds. Ranulf smiled at Runa before going to work undressing Janaff. Wet clothes wouldn’t do, and he needed to get his friend warm. A soft giggle caught his attention and he glanced back only to see Runa tossing her wet shirt to the side. He needed clothes for all of them. Once he tucked Janaff into the bed he gathered up both Janaff and Runa’s clothes and smiled at the child blanket bundle sitting on the bed.

“Runa I want you to stay here okay?” Ranulf said as he set the clothes on the third bed. He put then shoes on the floor by the foot of the bed. Walking over to Runa he knelt in front of her and smiled. He could see the confusion and pain on her face. She’d probably gone through a lot. He placed a hand on top of her head and watched the red eyes stared at him, almost glossy. “Stay here Runa, I’m going to find you warm clothes okay?” Ranulf explained and Runa shrunk away from him.

“No alone.” Runa said and Ranulf sighed.

“I’ll be right back, and Janaff will be with you. He’s just sleeping. I will be back Runa.” Ranulf explained and after a tense moment Runa looked to Janaff then to Ranulf and nodded. Ranulf smiled and patted her head before standing up again. He didn’t say anything as he moved away from Runa and first started checking the wooden chest in the bedroom. There were a few dresses that would work for Runa, but there wasn’t anything to fit Janaff or him. Then he also would need boots for all of them. He set the heavier dresses on top of the chest and started his way down stairs, the whole time Ranulf could feel Runa’s red gaze on him.


	2. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain searches for reason, and purpose but instead finds a small trio in need of help.

Sylvain slowed his horse from the full gallop to a slow trot as he reached another war wrecked town. His fist tightened on the reins as he surveyed the damage done. The kingdom was falling and quickly under the press of the Andreastian Empire. He knew he should be with Dimitri serving as a knight, and taking more interest in the role his father wanted him to play in this conflict. After all he was the one who bore the crest of Gautier. The thought made Sylvain frown with malcontent. Even as the snow started to fall Sylvain didn’t seek shelter. He dismounted from the black mare patting her neck as he led her through the ruins of the town.  
  
As the snow fell Sylvain walked through the town hoping something here would give him conviction. That something would give him a sign that he should stay with Dimitri, something other than this was your home. Something that would tell him to ignore the tempting ideals that Hubert and Claude talked about when they played chess. Toppling the crest system, breaking down borders and learning about people. He remembered those games fondly, as they were the last real memory of happiness that he had to cling to. It was almost five years since he’d been at the officers academy, since he had played chess against Claude and Hubert. Five years since the war started and his slow fall towards insincerity in every word. It was easy to smile but there were no more reasons for it. Sylvain stopped and narrowed his brown eyes, at the tracks in the street. They were starting to be covered up by the snow, just a single set of tracks with droplets of red.  
  
Sylvain urged his mare forward, grabbed the Lance of Ruin. He was going to be ready if there were bandits or whatever the threat was. His eyes followed the tracks but he stopped when he noticed a fresher set that had headed towards the burnt shops. Sylvain dismounted from his mare and patted her neck. He led her over to a broken fence and tied her reins, while his brown eyes stared at the shops. He held the lance with one hand and walked carefully towards the damaged shop. He moved into the shop eyes skimming the wreckage for movement for a shadow that was out of place.  
  
“Are you with Daein?”  
  
The voice had wafted from somewhere he couldn’t see. Stepping into the shop further Sylvain gripped the lance with both hands and searched once more. The silence rang in his ears, while the light question echoed in his mind. A voice that was warm and remained him of Claude, or what he remembered Claude sounding like.  
  
“No, I’m from the Holy kingdom of Fargus. Now how about you come out there isn’t anything left here.” Sylvain offered to reason. If this was a scavenger they picked a bad shop to target but it could also be an unfortunate farmer caught up in this struggle.  
  
“Alright, I’m coming out.”  
  
The voice wafted again, this time Sylvain was able to pin down the area it came from. Behind the broken counter a back storage room. Of course. The man that emerged shocked Sylvain. He’s body took a half step back as he looked over the young man with cat ears, and tail. The blue hair was light and striking, matching the tail, ears, and the stripes on his face. Dual colored ears that had cat pupils, dialating even though the light hadn’t changed. The man’s hands were raised, and his clothes were wet, too light for Fargus, and stained with blood. Sylvain didn’t know what to make of the being in front of him. He almost couldn’t believe that the ears and tail were real, but he’d seen men turned to monsters.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Sylvain asked, easing his stance but not his guard.  
  
“I was looking for a vulnary, clothes, and some boots.” The man explained a smile beginning to dance on his lips. “Never seen a laguz before?”  
  
“Were you attacked? Where are you from?” Sylvain asked his mind trying to grip the word laguz. It wasn’t one he’d ever heard. Nothing from any book, not from Fodlen at least.  
  
“Not exactly…. A companion and I moved to save a child. He was hurt and the child needs boots.”  
The explanation made Sylvain frown. Had bandits targeted a child? The depth people would sink disgusted him, but the story if true would be a reason to help. Sylvain flipped the lance of ruin in his grip and rested the butt of the lance on the ground.  
  
“Okay but you didn’t say where you are from.”  
  
“Well about that, I’m from Galia, however we had fallen through a dark mage’s spell and woken up in the snow. So I’m not sure if Galia is even near here.”  
  
Sylvain watched as the man relaxed a bit trying not to watch the lazy twitch of the tip of the man’s tail. Sylvain noticed how he wasn’t putting too much pressure on one leg, and noted the red stain to the torn cloth around his thigh. Sylvain watched the dual colored eyes for lies, for the hint of a trap being set. There was nothing there that was nefarious or malicious. He had learned minimal skill with healing, only to help with his meaningless trysts, and he had a few vulnaries in his pack with his horse. Clothing and boots he couldn’t help with.  
  
“Alright, I can give you a vulnary if you come with me.” Sylvain said as he was once again looked up and down. There was something slower, more deliberate in this sweep, like the other was trying to figure out something about him. Finally his head bobbed in a slight nod and he stepped closer.  
  
“My name is Ranulf.”  
  
“You can call me Sylvain.” Sylvain told Ranulf and he saw the soft nod again before leading the way out of the store. He led the way to his mare and the mare shook her head and pawed the ground. When they reached his mare, Sylvain went to the pack attached to the saddle to find the vulneries, while Ranulf offered a hand for her to sniff.  
  
“I’m not familiar with the kingdom you named, and I’m thinking you don’t know where Galia is.” Ranulf’s voice drew Sylvain’s gaze. He was surprised to see the cat man rubbing his mare’s neck, while he studied him with a side eye. “Any information you can tell me will help.”  
  
“I don’t, and I guess I can tell you where to avoid.” Sylvain nodded. There was something interesting about the cat man that he figured delaying here a while wouldn’t hurt. If he could discern his nature it might be best to send this man to Claude. Claude would treat someone different well, maybe even know where this Galia was. His home was still filled with too many people who distrusted those who were different, and the cold, it wasn’t something he wanted anyone to have to embrace.  
  
It was Ranulf’s turn to lead Sylvain and Sylvain didn’t mind. With the reins of his horse in one hand and a vulnery in the other he followed. He followed him back to the few homes untouched by the conflict. Sylvain looked to the barn and paused.  
  
“Hey I’m going to let Daisy rest too if I’m going to be here a while.” Sylvain said and Ranulf nodded. Sylvain moved to the barn while Ranulf headed inside the home. Sylvain wrestled with his thoughts, while his fingers worked to deftly remove the saddle and bridle from Daisy. There was part of him that wanted the company of such a warm voice, maybe a warm body too. Part of him told him to get back on his horse and ride away, it was almost a perfect nagging voice reminding him he should really return to Dimitri’s side, a thought that deepened his frown. Dimitri, once his friend was just a shell of hate and anger. There was nothing Sylvain could do for him now. Maybe he could have but it was doubtful. Sylvain inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the cold air prick his lungs and nostrils. Putting the vulnery back in his pack he unhitched it from the saddle and slung it onto his back. He exhaled just as slow, turning and walking into the once abandoned home.  
  
“No one was here when we arrived.”  
  
Sylvain’s mouth twitched as Ranulf answered the question he was going to ask. Sylvain watched the young man walk out from around a corner, his eyes studying him harder than before. Sylvain felt a type of exposure he’d only felt when faced with Claude, Hubert, or Mercedes’s gaze. One that could read beneath the surface. He watched the dual eyes flicker over his armor and the pack on his back. The moment Ranulf’s gaze left him and he stepped aside Sylvain understood. A child. A tiny toddler and probably the child from what Ranulf had told him. The child’s toes peeked out from the dragging hem of the dress before they shuffled closer to Ranulf the heavy dress they were in just a bit too big. The sleeves extending over her hands so that not even the tips of her fingers were seen.  
  
“Hello what’s your name?” Sylvain asked but he didn’t really expect an answer. She had to be maybe three, and probably not very good with strangers.  
  
“My name is Runa.”  
  
Sylvain was shocked at the answer and the crisp clarity she spoke with. He didn’t think children that small talked that well, but maybe he was wrong. A huffed chuckle drew his brown eyes back to Ranulf who seemed to be enjoying his surprise over Runa. There wasn’t anything else said as Runa turned and walked back around the corner Ranulf following her and Sylvain following him. Once again behind Ranulf Sylvain found himself studying the strange man. He watched the other’s tail lazily swish and wondered that if like a cat the fur there was soft.  
  
As they reached the bedroom Runa had climbed on the large bed with the unconscious man and Sylvain followed Ranulf over. Sylvain watched Ranulf slip an arm under the man’s neck and lift him up. Speechlessness took Sylvain as he saw the pointed ears, and more importantly the large brown wings that came off the man’s back. This man with the bird wings also had hair longer than most of the women he knew, a honey brown pooling down his back between his wings.  
  
“His name’s Janaff. He needs the vulnery or if you can use a healing staff.” Sylvain nodded and came over. He handed the vulnery to Ranulf looking over the bloody cloth bandaged on him. The vulnery would help but Ranulf’s friend would need rest too. He couldn’t leave an injured man, and child with only one protector against bandits. As Ranulf was giving Janaff the vulnery he pulled out a second. He would deal with just having one. These people needed it more.  
  
“Here, you’ll probably need a second.” Sylvain said, offering the second vulnery to Ranulf. The surprise on his face was expected as was the grateful smile and nod. What did catch Sylvain off guard was Ranulf giving the second vulnery to his friend as well. “You sure you’ll be okay?” Sylvain asked, watching the man with cat ears closely.  
  
“I probably should have taken it. However he needs it more.” Ranulf said as Sylvain watched him finish giving the man with wings, Janaff, the vulnery. Sylvain stepped back as Ranulf tucked Janaff into the bed again. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do this.”  
  
“Yeah I know. But it’s still the right thing to do.” Sylvain shrugged watching the child climb onto the bed and curl up on the other side of the winged man. He found himself heading to grab the blanket from the other bed as she yawn. His boots were a heavy sound through the silence. It was strange but doing this, it felt more right than anything in the past few years. He came back with the blanket and offered it to Ranulf who smiled and tucked the child in. Sylvain waited wondering if he should leave the room now or not. His pondering did need to be for he watched Ranulf nod his head towards the stairs and followed him. They went into the small kitchen and Ranulf set the chairs around the table back to an upright position.  
  
“So if you are still feeling generous, would you like to chat?” Sylvain laughed at the question because actually talking to someone well it sounded nice. He was tired of nagging, of the crazed mumbling, and the endless anger. He was drained completely, and this was like a bit of life offered back to him.  
  
“Sure, I don’t mind. In fact it's a nice change of pace.” Sylvain admitted and took a seat across from Ranulf. The wince the other made didn’t escape Sylvain, nor did the hand twitch to coodle a wound probably a cracked rib or something. Hiding injuries it was something he used to do when trying to impress, and so no one looked to close.  
  
“Is this because of bandits…. Or is it war?”  
  
Sylvain practically had to strain to hear the hissed whispered of war. The look on the other’s faces spoke volumes. The disgust, sorrow, anger, and defeat. It was like he’d seen war too much, another bit of proof he really wasn’t from Fodlen. He looked too close to his own age to have been a participant in the war with Dagda, Brigid, and the Empire. The Duscar massacre was a better bet, but again Sylvain was sure people would have talked about a cat man. That left the skirmishes with the Almyrans again wouldn’t someone have talked?  
  
“Yeah, it's war. It’s been going on for almost five years now.” Sylvain sighed watching the twitch of Ranulf’s ears, and jaw. “It’s a mess too. I kinda get why the other side started it, and I’m not even sure why we are fighting against the idea.” Sylvain sighed the truth to a stranger, it was oddly liberating.  
  
“Can you tell me about this war then? Who is involved? Do you have a map?”  
Sylvain took each question in and debated them. There was no reason to leave Ranulf with no knowledge and he could share what he knew easily. While Sylvain didn’t have a map they were able to grab a few kitchen items to build a rough map. Sylvain went about slowly explaining the war, and the goal that he knew was the empire’s drive. Sylvain was impressed with how closely Ranulf listened, following along but he needed a break. Sylvain sighed and leaned back in his chair while Ranulf still studied their makeshift map.  
  
“So I don’t understand one thing about this.”  
  
“Yeah what’s that?” Sylvain asked looking back over and watching Ranulf ease back into the chair with another wince. “Hey before you ask, let me get that.” Sylvain said.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I’m not the best at healing but I learned just enough back at the academy.” Sylvain admitted, and Ranulf stared at him confused.  
  
“You have a staff then?”  
  
“A staff? No, I don’t hold on to those focuses.” Sylvain said. “But I would like to see how bad it is. I need to know what I’m working with.” Sylvain could see that the other was still confused but he stood up and pulled off his shirt.  
  
“Honestly I don’t even remember the fire spell catching me.”  
  
Sylvain looked over the burned and bruised skin of Ranulf’s side. It was pretty bad and the man should have taken the vulnery. He wasn’t even close to Mercedes skill but he could at least ease the ache. Sylvain gets up and walks over to Ranulf taking a closer look at the damage. With the closer look he can see a few thin precise cuts on his arms and back, a grazing blow with a blade most likely. Sylvain moves his hand, holding it up before Ranulf and even though his focus is on recalling his lessons he can feel the confusion directed at him. The golden energy of the incantation and then the white blue energy blowing out from Ranulf’s body bluest at the wounds.  
  
“How…. Can you heal without a staff? It’s not sacrifice that you used, right?”  
  
“What? I’m not sure what you mean.” Sylvain answered his brown eyes sweeping over Ranulf’s toned torso. He could feel that his answer left many questions on the other's tongue but they were left unsaid. The thin cuts are gone and the burned skin has mostly healed, though his torso is now swallowed by ugly bruising and clearer view of the damage away from charred skin. “Hang on, I can do that again and finish getting rid of the burn.” Sylvain can feel the hesitation that is clear on the other’s face. “Look it’s no skin off my back, and you’ll be in a better place to protect the child and your friend.”  
  
“Thank you. You’re doing a lot for a stranger in the middle of a war.”  
  
“It’s nothing.” Sylvain deflected the blooming complement. He’s not a person who deserves them, and every time they whisper it's just a ruse to get something out of him. The praise of women who want him to carelessly impregnate them, people who want him to die for their cause, to risk everything. It's easy to just do it too. Once more he concentrates on the wound and on getting everything right. Once more there was silence as the healing magic did its work. It drained energy from him and he couldn’t cast the spell much more but thankfully it shouldn’t be needed. This time the burn was completely gone and now what was left could be tended with bandages. He should have some in his pack back on his saddle.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Yeah…But you should bandage it.” Sylvain answered as he returned to his chair. It was a shame to see Ranulf pull his shirt back on, only nodding to the suggestion. He was toned with a lean muscle, something that Sylvain could see a cat being if they were human. There is silence between them for a moment each just sitting there thoughts rolling around their minds. It almost feels like he’s back in the class room late at night with Hubert, and Claude pondering over moves or watching their match. It makes him feel at peace.  
“You should stay.”  
  
“What?” Sylvain drags his gaze from the table to Ranulf. The man has a smile dancing on his lips as the next words part them.  
  
“You should stay here for the night. Unless you are needed back immediately.”  
Sylvain looks towards the door out, his neck craned to look over his shoulder. It is cold and probably still snowing. He doesn’t know if he wants to go back yet. Everyone else is further from the front line so they should be safe. One night maybe a few more questions, it’s not a bad trade off.  
  
“Yeah, okay. I think I will.” Sylvain says as he settles his gaze back on Ranulf. For now he can pause his search for a reason to stay where he is and just help out someone. Maybe forget about this war for a bit.  



	3. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranulf gets to know a stranger, and finds his kindness as a comfort in this foreign land.

For Sylvain to stay it meant that Ranulf was going to have a chance to learn more about this place. Ranulf was reflecting over all the things that Sylvain explained so well. The Andrestian Empire, The Holy Kingdom of Fergus, The Lester Alliance, and lastly the Church of Serios. There were things called crests that gave people the right to be noble, or lead. It was the crest where he was feeling confused. The war was over an attack five years ago. A three way struggle from what Sylvain described. Destroying the crest system was a goal of the Andrestian Empire, it seemed too simple. There had to be more. After being manipulated into missing facts during his time with the Laguz alliance Ranulf didn’t want to take anything at first brush when it came to war. They had missed that the leak of information was to rile them up to draw everyone into a war to punish the world. Things just didn’t feel right, or was that him reading the feelings Sylvain was trying to hide?  
  
With a sigh Ranulf stopped checking over the stacked wood in the barn to stretch. The cold was gnawing at his arms, but he offered to get the wood. Sylvain had mentioned checking the nearby houses for clothes and more food. If they were lucky there would be a bit they could use. Red tipped fingers finally pulled at a few logs in the pile, careful not to dump the stack while pulling out the mostly dried wood. He grabs three logs and heads back into the house that his friend, Runa and him are staying in for now. Earlier in the night Sylvain and he had roughly patched up the damage to the door trying to keep the cold out. He set two of the logs in the fireplace of the kitchen and set the spare off to the side.  
  
With his hands free Ranulf started to brush the snow off his shoulders, and out of his hair. He had been blowing into his cupped hands to warm his fingers when the door opened again. The soft creak and low hollow of the wind caught his ears, while the crisp smell of snow, metal, and pine teased his nose. He watched the doorway and sure enough Sylvain was there with a bundle in his arms. Ranulf moved over to him and help take some of the things Sylvain brought back.  
  
“It’s not much, just an extra blanket, some clothes that might work, boots for the kid, and well dried meat. Oh I also grabbed some bandages from my saddle bag.”  
  
“Hey it's more than we had so thank you.” Ranulf shrugged and Sylvain nodded. “Do you mind lighting the fire? I’m going to check on Runa and Janaff.” Ranulf asked and Sylvain nodded. It probably seemed like a reasonable request after just having been healed from a burn that day. As they passed by each other Ranulf wondered about Sylvain. He had seen how his eyes lingered, he was hesitant about the war, and had been easily swayed to staying the night. All of this gave the appearance of a man who’d rather pursue passion over war. But there was something deeper to him. There was a touch of something deeper in his eyes, too bad he wouldn’t have time to figure it out. His curiosity would just have to deal.  
  
Ranulf climbed the stairs quietly and only peered into the bedroom. Janaff was breathing easily and Runa had curled up over him with her blanket. Ranulf smiled as he backed away not daring to make a single sound. He stopped halfway down the stairs a frown creasing his lips as a thought crossed his mind that he didn’t wish for. How Ike would be right at home here, told about a war with many sides and he was pretty sure he even knew where Ike would go. How Soren would manage the reports and tactics, and how after a hard battle he’d ease the stress away. Ranulf closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wincing. Right he was still hurt he’d almost forgotten the dull ache. He looked down at his shirt which was dotted with blood. He should ask Sylvain for the bandages, but that also brought memories of Ike. “So much for being over him…” Ranulf muttered to himself as he forced the sorrow away and joined Sylvain in the kitchen again.  
  
“It should get warm soon. Were they still sleeping?”  
  
“Yeah. I’m thinking Runa could use it too. She probably has been through too much.” Ranulf sighed returning to his chair. He had his eyes clothed but he heard Sylvain walk back to his chair. The worst part was maybe Runa had a family that missed her. She was young enough that it was possible but still unlikely. Then there was something that had bothered Ranulf about the scent coming off Sylvain. It was almost like the branded but so much weaker.  
  
“It sucks that she’s been dragged into this. Honestly I think you should head for the Lester Alliance territory, you know get the kid somewhere safe.”  
  
Ranulf glanced over at Sylvain and thought about what he’d told him. The Alliance was trying to be neutral and bordered a country that wasn’t in this three way war. It would be smart to head there but there was something else Ranulf needed. He reached onto the table and lifted up the heavy cloak Sylvain brought. He smirked when he saw the hood clearly there for him to hide his ears.  
  
“Sounds like you either have a soft spot for children or don’t agree with this war. Though my guess is both.” Ranulf smiled as he refolded the cloak. It was warm enough thanks to the fire he didn’t need it right now.  
  
“That obvious huh? Man I guess I’m getting predictable if complete strangers can read me. Then again everyone knows I’d rather be out having dinner with a pretty girl than fighting this war.”  
  
Ranulf eyes Sylvain at the comment. He doesn’t say anything, but he heard the disdain in his voice, the tense pull at the phrase pretty girl. It makes him wonder if there is a stigma against being attracted to the same sex. Or was it that Sylvain was also hurt over a past love. Ranulf stretched his torso protesting with aches and dull reminders of the fight from earlier. He settled back into his chair as Sylvain grabbed a piece of the dried meat.  
  
“Not into women that much or a broken heart?” Ranulf asks and smiles as Sylvain coughs. The look he gets is one that reminds him of Naesala, how he wished they’d realized sooner about the blood pact. It was a guarded look of intelligence that hid anything deeper. It was a puzzle that drew his curiosity.  
  
“Hey the ladies love me.”  
“I didn’t say they didn’t.” Ranulf countered to the half laughed statement Sylvain made. “Look it doesn’t matter to me, I think you know that too. In truth isn’t easier to be honest to a stranger than a close friend?” Ranulf dragged his eyes back to the fire feeling the weight of his own emotions. Every bit he buried, and hid so not to worry the people closest to him. Too bad Janaff’s eyes were so sharp, he wouldn’t be in this mess.  
  
“So what was it for you?”  
“I’d rather not say. Unlike you I have a friend up stairs, even if they are right now unconscious.” Ranulf smiled feeling the brown eyes of the other on him. He was watching and studying him before there was a touch of movement.  
  
“Suit yourself.”  
  
Silence came once more as heat rolled through the room. It was so warm that it was easy to relax, Ranulf found his eyes drifting shut a few times. It wasn’t until he heard the scrap of the chair next to him on the floor that he was able to open his eyes and look for the disturbance. He gave a half chuckle as Sylvain like him was more awake now. Maybe it was time to find a way to get some rest. Ranulf stood up arms reaching up, back arching with a pleasant stretch that made him feel good. As he relaxed again his eyes drifted to Sylvain who was watching him, but also standing up.  
  
“Probably a good time to rest up huh? Go ahead, I can keep watch.”  
  
“No need, my senses are sharper than yours and you’ve helped us out. You are just as tired as I am. We can both get some rest. How do you feel about a bed for a kid?” Ranulf asked the slight smile curling his lips as Sylvain smiled at the joke.  
“I think I’ll be just fine grabbing some blankets and moving the table out of the way. It’ll be just like roughing it outside, only not as wet.”  
  
“True but I think I’ll miss the smell of the grass.” The comment had both of them chuckling and smiling, it continued the levity that felt interacting with each other. The pause as Ranulf watched Sylvain’s eyes flicker between his tail and ears was natural. He waited for the other to stop staring at the parts of him that were foreign. Ranulf understood the stares, and he appreciated how accepting Sylvain was being. He left the room with the grateful thoughts sitting in his mind. He’d been the target of hate, and ignorance enough that it was nice to meet a new person and avoid it. Ranulf was quiet as he headed up the stairs for the second time. He looked once more over Janaff and Runa and smiled. They were both resting well at the moment, that was good. Jenaff took the brunt of the injuries and Ranulf knew while he was still injured and sore he could handle battle. Janaff would need time for his wounds to heal. Gathering blankets from the other child’s bed and a wardrobe Ranulf headed back down stairs. He smiled as he looked over Sylvain in the teal tunic. It seemed he was at least trustworthy enough for the other to finally strip out of his armor. The black metal piled in the corner Sylvain stood next to working off his shin guards.  
  
Ranulf set the blankets down and walked over to the table that had been pushed to the side. He looked at the bandages and sighed. He gripped the bottom of his shirt which was a bit sticky but mostly stiff. He wasn’t bleeding badly but getting the wound cleaned and wrapped properly should have been his first concern. Setting his shirt over the chair he craned his neck to look at the damage done to him. It was worse than he thought, and he’d been a fool to ignore his own wound. If it wasn’t for Sylvain he’d be in no shape to defend Janaff and Runa.  
  
“Hey do you think you can help me with the bandages?”  
  
“So now you want to take care of your wound?”  
  
“Now that Janaff and Runa are safe, and we have supplies? Yes.” Ranulf was smiling as was Sylvain. There was something about the playful ribbing that made Ranulf relax and clearly Sylvain too.  
  
“We should clean it first… Hang on.”  
  
Ranulf watched Sylvain grab a black pot and he left him. He had disappeared into the cold night and Ranulf was holding his breath. His eyes watching the door while his ears searched for footsteps running away. This was so foolish, Sylvain was a stranger why did it matter if he ran off in the middle of the night. The soft crunch of boots through the snow stayed close and within moments the door was opened again. Ranulf rubbed his eyes knowing the worry he felt was foolish for so many reasons. It was Ike, his feelings for Ike that was making him feel like this, and it was foolish. He pulled off his headband when he heard the tap of boots. He watched Sylvain set the pot down and start to unlace his boots. Ranulf walked over and took the pot, nodding at the mumbled thanks and hung it over the fire.  
  
With the snow melting Ranulf sat down on the blankets that had been laid out and a moment later Sylvain was sitting next to him eyeing his wound once more. Ranulf really was grateful and lucky that Sylvain could heal. It wasn’t sacrifice, but maybe it was something else. Ranulf knew there was a lot about the branded they didn’t know. They just made assumptions, and Sylvain still smelled faintly like a branded.  
  
“You should have let me dress your wound sooner.”  
  
“Probably, but there were other things to be done.” Ranulf countered. He almost wanted to point out that as a laguz he was probably a lot tougher than the other thought. Ranulf couldn’t help the cheeky smile that stayed on his lips, or how his eyes flickered over to Sylvain at the slightest movement. Ranulf watched as Sylvain checked the pot and then lifted it off from over the fire. The pot was placed on the floor and Ranulf got up and walked over. Sylvain was testing the temperature of the water which Ranulf was again grateful for. It seemed that Sylvain was a very attentive man, even if his words were lackadaisical.  
  
“It’s warm but shouldn’t burn you.”  
  
“I’ll be fine.” Ranulf said. He winced as he lifted his arm up so that Sylvain could clean the wound without a hindrance. The touch of the cloth stung as the warmth soaked into his injury. “You slipped something in there?... Alcohol?”  
  
“Just a little yeah. Wouldn’t want to have healed you only for you to get an infection. I’m not that careless.”  
  
“I didn’t even notice.” Ranulf chuckled. There was no smell or if there was it was softer than the fire, then the earthy smell of Sylvain, then his own blood. With the wound being wiped down and cleaned it started to dot with fresh blood but nothing that was concerning. Ranulf only noticed Sylvain pausing once in his self appointed task. When he stole a peek as to why he couldn’t help but smile. His tail swished and Sylvain’s eyes followed it. Sylvain was clearly still getting used to Ranulf’s tail. A soft gasp left his lips and snapped Ranulf’s gaze back to Sylvain’s hand. The cloth was pressed to the worst of it. Right above his hip, and a few inches off from his naval.  
  
“There, now let’s get you bandaged.”  
  
“Do you think I could borrow some of those? I made some quick bandages for Janaff but he should get his wounds cleaned and properly bandaged.” Ranulf explained. It was something Ranulf could handle on his own if left the supplies.  
  
“Sure, I’ll help. But you should rest before you start tending to someone else.”  
  
“You don’t have to.” Ranulf replies before he knows what he’s saying. He doesn’t like the almost hollow feeling that threatens to bloom.  
  
“Nah, it’s okay. Not like I have anything better to do.” A simple answer and it relaxes him. A stranger and yet he is having such an impact on his emotions and mind. Is it because of Ike, or that he still doesn’t know where this place is. Either way their conversation drops off while Sylvain finishes wrapping the bandages around his torso. With the wrap finished they both return to the blankets. There is silence broken only by the sound of the fire and their movements once they surrender to sleep. With his eyes closed with another body so close Ranulf can’t help but recall the war. Recall the tents, all clustered together the smells, and the ease that came from sharing the occasional night with Ike. The thoughts of their first night like that crawls through his brain but it's not painful, just sad.


	4. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain opens up more to Ranulf and finds peace in a welcomed distraction.

Chapter 4) Distraction  


Sylvain had to leave. He had to step away as soon as Ranulf was asleep. He had to because after being alone with his thoughts and conflict, the innocent joy of the child, the friendly smile it was hard. Sylvain sighs heavily through his nose feeling cold and alone again. The darkness of the small front room is only disturped by the soft touch of the moon. The chair he sat in hard and about as comforting as a rock. He wished that this scenario was a new one but it wasn’t. Sitting alone in a cold room lost to thoughts that were called treasonous was a constant for Sylvain. None of his allies dared to even consider what the empire was trying to do. The church vilified them but the professor had sided with them before. Sylvain sighed as his peace was interrupted.  


“Is it wrong to refuse to acknowledge the death of someone because you didn’t see the body?” Sylvain asked, keeping his eyes on his folded hands.  


“I guess not, but who are you?”  


Sylvain’s gaze snapped wide, and he stood up so quickly the chair wobbled. The man staring at him was bare chested with long straight brown locks falling down to almost mid chest. His bangs were messy but didn’t hide the sharp eyes that were pinning him to his spot. Even if the gaze was sharp the man with wings looked like he was going to tumble over. He had a hand wrapped over a makeshift bandage and Sylvain was glad that there were supplies still from when he bandaged Ranulf.  


“Easy, my name is Sylvain. Look your friend-”  


“I already saw Ranulf sleeping. So who are you?” Sylvain held up his hands as he was interrupted. There was a bit of annoyance on the man’s face and Sylvain wasn’t sure why. The way he was heckled though it was like he’d insulted him.  


“Okay, well my name is Sylvain Jose Gautier. No, I don’t know what Daein is, and I can tell you your friend didn’t recognize any names I could give of the countries.” Sylvain explained and there was a slight deflating to the other’s intense gaze. Sylvain cringed as the other winced and stumbled. Sweeping his own gaze over the winged man he could see that he was more beat up than Sylvain thought. No wonder Ranulf wanted him to get both vulnaries. It was just a shame he hadn’t any elixir on him.  


“Hey maybe you should sit.” Sylvain offered gesturing with his head back to the empty chair but once more that bristled posture and sharp gaze were back. Sylvain wasn’t sure what he was doing to cause it but those eyes were more discerning than Hubert and Claude and they were focused on him. Even with his clothes he felt naked, uncomfortable, and agitated under such a gaze.  


“Janaff, he’s not hiding a weapon.”  


Sylvain sighed as Ranulf lazily spoke and loomed in the kitchen frame. Ranulf's voice had pulled that gaze off of him, and Sylvain was grateful for that. Sylvain felt his gaze stick on Ranulf as he walked into the room standing even with Janaff. His blue fur and hair was striking in the moonlight. Sylvain watched Ranulf toss a friendly glance and smile to him before speaking to Janaff.  


“Is your wing okay?”  


Sylvain quietly stepped back watching and listening. He wasn’t really listening in but the smile that was breaking over the winged man's face was a complete clash to his intense gaze. He watched the gaze on Ranulf and how the other just went with it. Maybe it was just how the other was or maybe there was something more. Sylvain raised an eyebrow when he heard the huffed laugh followed by a groan of pain.  


“Sorry, if I unnerved you beorc. You said your name was Sylvain? I’m Janaff.” Janaff’s voice was lighter in tone and there was still a calculated look Sylvain noticed in his eyes. It was softer but it was still there. Sylvain answered with a smile of his own but his mind couldn’t help but compare Janaff to his first interactions with Claude. Man he really did miss the long nights and heated discussions that never left that room.  


“Yeah it’s Sylvain. And hey no worries, you guys went through a lot from what I’ve figured out.” Sylvain answered glancing at Ranulf who just gave him a reassuring smile. “Wish there was more I could do.” Sylvain offered a smile of sympathy. He had just started to relax again when Janaff swayed. As the man with wings started to fall both he and Ranulf moved to catch him. Sylvain stepped back as Ranulf held on to his friend, watching the clear worry set in on his face in his bright eyes.  


“You should rest more.”  


Sylvain sighed as Ranulf escorted the other back up the stairs, an ease roll back in. He’d had enough of being studied by the others and didn’t really want to deal with it now. He could hear their voices speaking softly but the words were lost. Sylvain knew if he focused on the sound he’d probably figure it out but doing that to Ranulf seemed wrong. Sylvain slumped down in his chair again and ran his hand through red locks. Some escape this was. He had wanted to clear his mind of his worries but they just kept coming back. In each silent moment.  


“Sorry about Janaff.”  


Sylvain just smiled at the apology. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the suspicion or even that it wasn’t warranted, it had just been a shock.  


“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Sylvain said, lifting his head. He was glad he looked up when he had, watching Ranulf walk in that tail swaying. It gave him an allure, a constant and natural one. One he’d seen many women try to fake or obtain but it wasn’t there not all the time, not like with Ranulf. Yet when his eyes moved up to his face, the shadows almost successfully hid the down turn to his lips. Almost hid the deep train of thoughts and emotions in those dual colored eyes. Sylvain sighed and started to stand up. He really should move on anyways. “If it’s better that I leave I.”  


“You don’t have to leave. He’s just used to watching for hidden blades.” The argument and the slipping touch of Ranulf’s hand from his shoulder. It was more than that but it was also clear his presence was at least enjoyed by Ranulf. Sylvain really didn’t want to leave either not with it still being fairly dark and cold. Sylvain watched Ranulf step back and give him space.  


“Is Runa still a sleep?” Sylvain asked and watched the subtle bob of Ranulf’s head. There was another moment of silence between them, a moment where Sylvain wondered more about Ranulf. Every time there was silence there was a dip of sorrow that rested in his eyes, moments were his lips would drop as well. A faked happiness all the time that was something more he could relate to as well.  


“Are you going to try and rest more?” The question felt almost like an obligation to fill the silence that was there.  


“Nah, I don’t think so.” Sylvain answered watching Ranulf as they stood there. Sylvain felt an ease as Ranulf took a seat and he followed suit. There was a bubbling mix of relaxation and an urge to fight against the words he hadn’t told anyone. He’d already shared a lot with Ranulf, a stranger, would it really matter if he spoke more? If he let the even more blasphemous words fall from his lips?  


“I would hate for us to cause you to end your reprieve early anyways.” Sylvain chuckled wryly at Ranulf’s added comment. It seems that he was transparent. Then again so was Ranulf like a murky pond where glimpses of the truth and bottom were seen if you watched long enough.  


“Yeah, well would hate to leave you feeling lonely.” Sylvain countered and the short laugh was warmer than anything back home. That heat, the warmth promised here, in a person that might understand it was more than enough to let his guard slip just a bit more. It was tiring playing the role around everyone. A reprieve was needed. “Besides I’m not exactly sure what side I should be fighting for.” Sylvain confessed and watched Ranulf’s ears twitch.  


“What do you mean?” The curiosity was sobering but not accusatory. It was gentle and it was the best response he’d ever get.  


“The kingdom is my home, but the ideals of the empire. The change they want, it would be good for a lot of people.” Sylvain said a bitterness tainting his expression as he thought about his lot in life. “Right now, bearing a crest your life is set for you. A piece in someone else’s chess game to be moved, sold, or seduced for power. Affection isn’t honest, its a game a hope that some poor sod with a crest will bear another crest baby. The empire wants to do away with the nobility of the crests.” Sylvain sighed feeling almost drained by his venomous speech. He breathed in when he felt Ranulf’s hand on his shoulder.  


“Sounds lonely.” Such a simple statement and it didn’t even scratch the surface. “But you need a reason to fight. The first war we fought against Daein there were people from Daien that joined us. You have to believe in the cause you fight for or you’ll die.” Sylvani sighed knowing that there was truth in that statement. If you doubted the cause you would lose morale and that could get you killed. It’s almost a relief that Ranulf doesn’t ask him to pick between ideals and long held friendships, even if they are growing cold. However the confirmation of war wasn’t surprising what was, was first.  


“First?” Sylvain asked while studying Ranulf. He watched a mix of fondness, sorrow, remorse and more pass over his face.  


“Yeah, First Daein invaded Crimea and we helped with a mercenary group led by Ike. Ike became a famed commander and we sought his help with a second war. War hadn’t been our first choice but after three of our messengers and diplomates were killed it was clear that we weren’t going to be listened to.” Sylvain studied Ranulf watching the sorrow, regret, and shadows of other emotions in his eyes ones he didn’t let cross his face.  


“What was so important you were willing to go to war?” Sylvain asked moving so he was closer to Ranulf. In the dull light of the moon he watched the flick of the catman’s ears the sway of his tail. It seemed like the subtle twitch of both of them betrayed more than his trained face.  


“A massacre. We learned that a massacre had been planned, that lies had been spread to justify it and we wanted the men responsible to pay. They were powerful, and used their power and influence to hide, so we had to flush them out.” The heavy sigh from Ranulf drew a frown from Sylvain. This, this wasn’t a topic to talk about at least not right now. “Does this help you?”  


“Ha, I wish…” Sylvain barked a bitter laugh. Help him figure out what was right and wrong. It seemed impossible, especially with all the bad decisions he’d made over his life so far. Decisions to bury truth, and run from reality through escaping it. Only to wake up in the morning feeling more disgusted with not only himself but his female companion of that night. He could feel the warmth of Ranulf’s hand as it covered his shoulder, even through the clothes he wore. Warmth. Was it wrong to want to indulge just a moment of peace and warmth. Would he regret it in the morning like every other time? Sylvain looked at Ranulf his mind going back to an earlier question and conversation. Toying with the answer now, wondering what reaction it would cause.  


“It’s the ladies.” Sylvain started watching the confusion from the corner of his eye as he sat next to Ranulf. “They see me as a chance to promote themselves to a comfy life. All they have to do is get knocked up by me.” Sylvain snorted. “They want me for one reason each and every time.” Sylvain opened up not much but he could see the dipping features of Ranulf. It seemed it was enough to change the topic and loosen lips.  


“Ike.” Sylvain waited through the tense and heavy pause. The pain was clear on Ranulf’s face, in his voice, it radiated off his body. “I had gotten close with commander Ike, and then without a word he left. He… He left me beyond without a second thought.” Sylvain mulled over each word, the rawness that wanted to come out but was still kept at bay festering like an untreated wound. Only one of them really needed to endure such a poison. Sylvain gave Ranulf’s shoulder a squeeze trying to reaffirm that right now someone was here.  


“I’m sorry.” Sylvain wondered if his friends would feel the same if he left if he joined the empire. In fact hearing Ranulf talk it confirmed to himself the truth he had yet to acknowledge. He didn’t want to abandon his friends even if they were drifting apart, he especially couldn’t do that to Felix. Could he however stay when staying hurt as much as it did? He just wished the right answer was easy for once.  


“I’ve heard that too much.” The bitter chuckle that left the catman just didn’t sound right. Everything Sylvain had seen so far showed him a smart, optimistic, and calm man. The bitterness in that laugh was out of place, even if he hadn’t known him for long. He knew if anyone ever hurt Ashe like this he’d make them pay, was it the same for Ranulf’s friends? How long would his journey home be anyways?  


“Yeah I bet…” Sylvain trailed off, his hand drifting off Ranulf’s shoulder.  


“Ike, he didn’t care what you were, or what social position you held. He didn’t conform to that.” Sylvain watched the sad light in Ranulf’s eyes. He was still clearly carrying a torch for this man. That description though it sounded more like the professor. Someone who didn’t care about crests. She’d been a remarkable woman, too bad it had been very clear her interest lied with other women.  


“He sounds like a good guy.” Sylvain said in honesty.  


“Hmm, I was completely taken with him… But. I guess the feelings didn’t run as deep on his end.”  


Even if it wasn’t said Sylvain knew the sentiment immediately. His fist clenched as he felt like he was being faced once more with a mirror of his darkest thoughts. He just wasn’t good enough. Or for himself the only thing that mattered was his crest. That the people around him just expected him to stay with them out of duty, because that was his homeland and the church was _right _.  
__

__“Ah well, it is the past…. Hey thanks for listening.” The touch to his shoulder, drew a soft jerk from him. He hadn’t expected it. He had expected a sad silence but Ranulf was looking at him with a smile.  
_ _

__“Yeah…” Sylvain muttered. He wondered how Ranulf managed to just switch to a smile so easily. Was it honest? “You know if you don’t want to smile you don’t have too. I mean you should if you want but you don’t have to fake one with me.” Sylvain stated rubbing the back of his neck a habit he had when approaching more honest conversations.  
_ _

__“Heh, thanks, but it is honest.” Sylvain looked at Ranulf shock clearly on his face. Sylvain let the shock melt to a small understanding smile and nodded. Once more silence fell between them but the distraction the ability to think about where Ranulf was from what life could be like there, could his life have been a good one there? It was nice._ _


	5. Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janaff has a look around the strange place, and then reflects on past and present.

Janaff had only slipped from the bed once after Ranulf left him in the darkness with the child. He didn’t go far just enough to peer back down stares. He had listened to them talk not hearing what they were saying, only hearing that they were talking. Seeing them both sitting on the floor slumped against a hand, or wall it eased Janaff. He knew it was a bad habit but he was still weary of beorc. An approach that every time he found justification for it he also found a reason to let go. Sylvain Jose Gautier. Janaff wrapped a hand around his torso feeling the bandages. They had to have come from this beorc. Though there was one way to be sure.  


Janaff stayed there sitting on the stairs till silence had stretched on for a long hour. Moving from the stairs to the bed again Janaff made sure to cover the child completely and tucked her in. She was cute and as long as Ranulf was down stairs she’d be safe. Janaff smirked and shook his head. Ranulf was a sucker for children, it really was a shame he wouldn’t have his own. Though there was no doubt in Janaff’s mind that someday Ranulf would have a child to care for, just not biologically his. Picking up his shirt Janaff started to dress himself, ignoring the shooting hot pain that lanced through his left arm and wing. It hurt enough to make his vision blurry but gritting his teeth he didn’t dare make a sound.  


Janaff panted, sweat on his brow as he finished dressing himself and just stood there trying to collect himself. Gulping at the air like it was water just to fight against the pain. The last time he’d been in this much pain was during the war. The wood of the stairs barely creaked under his steps, but it was like thunder in the silence. Each step his eyes were on Ranulf watching his friend for the slightest hint he was waking up. It seemed however his friend was truly exhausted sleeping soundly as he slipped down the stairs. He was planning on going outside checking the stables, and other areas. After all he wanted to know if there were more beorc here. He’d almost reached the door when something in the kitchen caught his eyes. The orange glow, the unnatural twitch.  


Janaff in curiosity and caution headed to the kitchen and the sight of the weapon made his blood run cold. There smell wasn’t there, but the fine trace details his eyes picked up. The head of the lance was made from bone. His stomach churned at the way it twitched like it was still alive. There was a red stone there in the head of the lance pulsing beating like a heart. Janaff tensed everything in him screaming this was wrong. He drew closer for a better look and felt a cold rush as the lance’s twitching slowed. It was like some unrest was eased when he drew closer. As if it wanted to be touched by him.  


Janaff stepped back his wide eye gaze watching that lance with a deep dread. His whole being was shaken up by it. The feeling of dread just sank deeper into his bones when he stepped out into the bitter cold. Each breath he swallowed burned his lungs and his body shook involuntarily from the cold. Janaff bite the tip of his tongue to snap himself back to what he wanted to do, to get his body to take another step forward. The snow crunched under his feet and drew unwanted comparisons to the crunch of armor giving way before flesh was struck. Inhaling sharply through his nose Janaff forced his gaze up.  


In the early light the white snow danced with sparkles, and there were no tracks. At least no more than to account from Ranulf and Sylvain, plus one horse. The subtle dips in the snow told him that. The buildings told a far sadder story. The burn marks, and broken doors. The overturned rain barrels, and broken fences. There had been a struggle here and recently. He wandered by each house, noting the rough threads of clothes caught on the wood, dried blood, clean cuts of the iron that beorc used. This was a beorc village attacked by beorc. Was Runa from here? But how did they get here? They’d been in the desert but the cold air was more like the frosty tips of Daein.  


As the cold grew to be too much Janaff headed back to the small house they’d taken shelter in. In the doorway Ranulf stood waiting for him. The small smile on his friends lips was one that was a sad one and yet reminiscent of their times during the wars. When he reached the door Ranulf stepped to the side and offered help that Jannaff refused. They headed back upstairs and seeing the small child awake Janaff smiled at her.  


“You know he used most of his medical supplies, or he didn’t have much.” Janaff stated wincing as he sat back down and the child climbed next to him. He would have ruffled her hair or at least put a wing around her, is his body wasn't already screaming at him. He was over doing it but that didn't matter.  


“He used it on us. Its why I offered for him to rest with us. By the way this is Runa.”  


“Runa, we’ll get you somewhere safe okay?” Janaff smiled to Runa but his eyes were on Ranulf. Was the help the only reason? “This beorc town was ransacked.”  


“They are in the middle of a war…”  


“What?” Janaff was stunned. No, a war that wasn’t possible. Janaff didn’t need to ask anymore because he could see the solemn look and the stiffness to Ranulf’s body. Janaff glanced towards where Sylvain was and then to the unnerving weapon.  


“Sylvain explained about the kingdoms around us… None of them are familiar to myself, I don’t know if you’ll have heard stories. Andrestian Empire, Holy Kingdom of Fergus, and Lester Alliance. We are currently in Fergus who is at war with the Andrestian Empire.” Janaff just focuses on breathing through the information. His mind trying hard not to reel with the losses of the last war. However these names were also foreign to him. He couldn’t hold them responsible for ignoring what they all had learned if they hadn’t even bordered their homes. “Sylvain says we should head for the Lester Alliance, that there are a few people there more open minded.”  


“Hmm? Open minded?” Janaff looked at Ranulf confused.  


“Well they don’t have laguz here. Or at least I was quite the surprise to the beorc.” Janaff couldn’t help but mirror Ranulf smirk before his mind was drawn back to the weapon. So there were no laguz here. But...  


“Ranulf the beorc has the same air as the branded.” Janaff pointed out. He watched carefully as Ranulf looked back with a telling look. Ranulf didn’t react to it. Janaff knew Ranulf always had been one to never react with instinct to the branded, he wanted to break the cycle. Something that was starting to be embraced among their kin.  


“Yeah… He also has limited healing magic without a staff.” Janaff was gobsmacked by the statement and before he could ask the follow up question Ranulf was shaking his head. So healing without sacrifice, and the scent of a branded. There had to be laguz, even if they were few, it was the only conclusion that made sense.  


“I don’t think we should mention that to him. The similarity to the branded.”  


“Why not?” Janaff questioned. Would it really matter if they did? Who cared if it was a word this Sylvain didn’t know.  


“I just don’t think we need to. Think of it as repayment for the help he’s given.” Janaff hummed at Ranulf’s reason. There was a volume to what wasn’t being said and Janaff couldn’t help but wonder what it was. He was aware of the way Ranulf’s gaze kept lingering on the beorc, and the way he kept an ear out for him. Yet he also saw the guard Ranulf was trying to keep up. Another war, yeah neither of them needed that.  


“So your plan is to once we are healed and rested head for this Lester Alliance?” Janaff asked as Runa moved around the room. Janaff watched her explore peering under beds and in the chest.  


“I think that’s the best idea. It’ll keep us away from another war, and hopefully they will have some idea of our home.” While Ranulf spoke Janaff still watched Runa who had happily found a doll under one of the beds. It was a simple thing, and clearly worn.  


“The question is will open-minded mean accepting. If they don’t know what Laguz are.” Janaff stated and watched Ranulf’s lips tighten in a frown. It was a gamble openly approaching people. The beorc of their homeland had held hatred and prejudice for the longest time. The sooner they got home the better, it seemed. There wouldn’t be questioning or worry. They could go back to their life of peace. Yet Janaff saw a hint of something in Ranulf’s eyes.  


“What’s on your mind?”  


“What if Ike came to a place like this? What if he followed the conflict? He is a mercenary after all.” Janaff felt a dull throb of pain and sympathy for his friend.  


“Ranulf don’t. Don’t do that to yourself.” Janaff commanded. He watched the fall of Ranulf’s ears, the slowing of his swaying tail. It was painful to watch and even more to crush that hope but it had to be done. The worst thing Janaff could do to his friend was let him hold a torch for a man that left him without a word. It was hard to say and harder to admit but Janaff no longer could see Ike the same way as he did in the war. Whether on purpose or not Ike had crushed Ranulf, and it wasn’t something Janaff would easily forgive. At least his love life was a mutual hurt that came from conversations and not abandonment.  


“Play with me.” Janaff looked to Runa who was now standing between them. With Ranulf near the wall and he on the bed, Janaff was closer to her pouting face. Janaff smiled and just looked up to Ranulf who easily moved towards her. It was almost envious how Ranulf just scooped her up and smiled, his sorrow being banished by the needs of the small child.  


“You should rest some more Janaff.”  


“Sure, sure.” Janaff waved a hand at Ranulf as he moved to lay down. He winced with each movement of his left arm and his wing. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft tap and creak of Ranulf’s steps down the stairs. Janaff relaxed breathing in and out through his nose while he thought on his failed love life. They loved each other but not enough to ask the other to make the sacrifices that would come from a union between Laguz and Beorc. Janaff missed her smile and skill with a sword. The almost shy way her blue hair would cover half her face. He smiled as he remembered mistaking her for a child the first time they talked. It had been embarrassing but now thinking back on it, it was a fond memory.  


He had entertained the idea many times of giving up everything for her. He even had been so bold once as to discuss it with Ulki. They talked about his role to Tibarn, would leaving be okay, and could he deal with the loss of her once her short life was over. For a family with Lucia, for the chance to have spent every day with her, he’d been willing. A family would have been enough. Janaff exhaled through his nose and stared at the thatched ceiling. He could see the recent repairs to the structure. Eventually like the repairs here the pain of the heart would be fixed, but never gone. He’d been lucky his pain was different than Ranulf’s and he wasn’t as troubled by it.  


If only everyone could split on good terms. He had closure in their final talk, closure before he decided to drag Ranulf on a vacation of sorts. The heart ache would be there but Janaff understood Lucia couldn’t ask him to give up serving Tibarn, even if he was willing to give it up. Lucia would have carried guilt and he couldn’t do that to her. Still he couldn’t help but wonder what she would have said to this place. A small village decimated and he was certain there were no or few survivors. That children would have been killed along with eldery. Women, Men it wouldn’t matter to thieves and bandits. It was sad but it was the truth.  


With a sigh he turned his thoughts back to the new Beorc and thought about him. His weapon was very different from anything he’d seen. It didn’t even smell right and his nose wasn’t nearly as sensitive as any of the beast or dragon laguz. Even with a strength weapon it was odd for a beorc to be on their own during a war. It was dangerous even if they were skilled. Yet he seemed to be like the branded and General Zelgius was strong enough to take on laguz in one on one combat. However if they didn’t know about the laguz how could there be branded?  


Janaff groaned and pushed his right hand to his forehead. All of this was making his head hurt. The mess they were in was a confusing one to be assured. Add in dodging battles it wasn’t going to be a fun mess that was for sure. Yet this was as far away from any reminder of Ike, of Lucia that he could have asked for. How funny that a run in with bandits would in a very strange and dangerous way achieve his goal. After all, trying to get home should keep Ranulf’s mind from Ike, and lessen both their pain. Plus it would be a nice long break from Skirim, Janaff was certain Ranulf would enjoy that. He smiled and relaxed down into the bed trying to rest once more.

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine and I have talked a lot and while it isn't cannon I feel that there is quite a bit of similarity between Tellius and Fodlen. So much so that in this work they are the same place separated by thousands and thousands of years. Sothis is a Divine Dragon that was twisted into taking the goddess' place by altered telling of the past.


End file.
